Cracks in the Ice
by The Asgardian Worm
Summary: Sequel to "A Splintered Soul", set during The Avengers (slightly altered timeline); Paton McAllister has no recollection of the pale god pointing a weapon of mass destruction at her, but remembers her all to well.
1. New York, New York

There was a knock on the door that I hadn't been expecting.

The milkman and paper boy had been by to collect, and it wasn't the third Saturday of the month, so that meant it wasn't the gardener. I put the cereal bowl and empty milk jug into the sink and crossed over to the door.

"Good Morning, P," a bright face greeted me, leaning against the door jamb.

"Aaron," I said, holding the door open. "Morning, morning, come in."

"Sorry to drop in so early, but I just had a call from the office. They need me over in Jersey to cover some charity event. Cavalli toters having an auction night for Syria or something, Hannigan called me like two hours ago and out me on the job."

Aaron cast a glance around the apartment and then turned to me, "I have to be at the train station at one so I was wondering if you wanted to catch brunch with me."

"Oh," I tied up my dressing robe and went over to clear the table, "I had breakfast only a little while ago."

"Oh," Aaron sounded a little disappointed.

I put the lucky charms away and turned to him with a smile, "But I'm still feeling peckish. You could take me to that shawarma place in town."

He brightened up considerably and dropped his bag down on the sofa, "Great, babe."

Aaron leaned in to me and I pushed a finger against his mouth, "I'm going to go brush."

"You eat breakfast without brushing?"

"Uh yeah, what's the point of brushing if you're just going to get cereal stuck in your teeth afterwards?"

"Gross, P!" He laughed.

"Oh right, I'm not the one who pulls my retainer out at the table in a five star restaurant."

"That was months ago."

"I'm losing my appetite just thinking about it," I laughed as he drew his arms around me and planted a quick kiss on my cheek.

"I'll catch up on the news, don't be too long," Aaron said.

"Never am," I disappeared into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later we were pulling up to a small joint tucked in along a ton of other shops.

"You know," I said, unbuckling my seatbelt, "we had a lot of places like this in South Dutton. I don't get why you New Yorkers make such a huge fuss."

"No place like NY diners, I guarantee you," Aaron laughed and we went to find a table. The counter tops were plastic and so were the food trays and spoons. I hadn't been at a place like this in nearly a year. It was all ceramics and folded napkins and flutes of Chardonnay.

I hated it.

As Aaron scooched in next to me I let my fingers curl around his wrist and said, "Thanks."

"What for?" He was dressed in his usual work clothes - a white shirt, blue trousers and a blue jacket, complete with pocket pen holder and a blue-tooth device around his ear. I had retired my trainer's uniform for a crisp shirt and slacks.

I shrugged pleasantly and hooked my arm with his while he ordered for me.

"So when are you going to be back," I asked as we were biting into our shawarmas.

Aaron reached over to wipe a bit of curry from the corner of my mouth before answering, "Probably late."

"You can crash at mine, if you like," I offered.

"For real? You're a life saver. I can't bear to drive all the way back to Brooklyn. I've got the keys right here," he patted his bag, "so you don't need to wait up."

We finished up in under half an hour and he checked his watch, "Better push off now. Come on I'll drop you."

He left me at the gateway of my apartment building and drove off in the direction of New Jersey. I headed into the lobby, the guard tipped his hat at me, and I got into the lift.

As soon as the doors shut, I sank back against the cold steel walls, exhausted. My body ached in places I didn't even know I had. They had been working me for over a month now like a robot, and I was going to relish my first day off in a long time. Dragging myself back to the apartment, I wondered whose bright idea it had been to list my cover as a tennis instructor. It took me an hour's jog to make it look convincing and if Aaron hadn't been taken with me, he would have begun to question 1) why there was no sports equipment casually lying around the house and 2) how I was paying for the apartment on a coach's salary.

As I fell back into bed, I inhaled the lavender scent of the sheets and wondered how I'd gotten it so good. Oh, right. I worked my ass off for it. Training for just under a year until the boss had decided to move me up from recruit status. I caught sight of myself in the wall-mirror and sighed. How things had changed. The woman looking back at me was leaner, with harder eyes and short cropped hair. I turned my face away and rolled onto my back. I could easily sleep for another twenty hours. And I could've managed it until a shrill ring from the hallway woke me up.

I tripped my way out of the bedroom glancing up at the clock - I had been asleep for about two hours but it had felt like only a few seconds. Still, I sighed, I suppose it was more than I could have hoped for.

Picking the phone off the hook, I drawled a disinterested _hello_ into the mouthpiece.

"Good evening Miss McAllister, the cable man is here."

The cable man? I hadn't asked for any cable man, "What house did you say he wanted?"

"Yours, Miss. Number four ninety seven."

"There must be some sort of mistake."

"The cable man is here," the voice said with finality and the line went dead. I pursed my lips and went over to the front door to push the buzzer.

I hung up the phone and went back to the bedroom. On the underside of a lamp base, I found a pistol and cartridge and loaded up before going to wait by the door.

I do not own a TV.


	2. Cable Guy

The front door was left ajar and a hand had gripped the knob pushing it wide open. Two shoes came in first followed by the rest of the man dressed in a very convincing uniform. I slid out from the corner and pressed the mouth of the gun to his neck.

He froze, holding his palms up and then exhaled slowly, "Agent McAllister."

I stood back and lowered my gun as the man turned around.

"Agent Barton," I breathed.

"Your phone is unreachable," he said, shutting the front door and pulling off that ridiculous navy blue cap.

I tossed my gun onto the coffee table and sank into the couch, "It's my day off."

"I hate to inconvenience you but Director Fury called us in. All hands on deck."

I gawked at him, "Wait, what? Fury's calling us in on a Sunday? But he specifically said he wouldn't-"

"Things have changed," Clint Barton said sternly. "We found Thor."

The name jarred against my ears. I rubbed my eyes and blinked up at him, "Thor? Thor Odinson. _The_ Thor?"

He nodded.

"_Jane's Thor?_ I mean, Dr Foster's?"

"We're taking a chopper out to the desert," he said bluntly. "Use the fire escape, I'll be waiting."

I waited for him to go out the door and once I was certain he had entered the elevator I let out a tirade against Nick Fury and all of S.H.I.E.L.D. and went in to change.

* * *

Clint Barton drove an inconspicuous Volkswagon Beetle. I leapt off the last run of the fire escape, buttoning down my jacket as I slid into the passenger seat.

"Jesus, Clint, ever consider an upgrade?"

He pulled the brakes without comment and we shot off in the direction of the highway. I squirmed in my seat a bit, wondering if I ought to call Aaron and say I'd been called out of town. Who knew how long I was going to be away.

"Is Stark up to something?" I asked suddenly and Clint glanced at me from the corner of his eyes.

"Not exactly," he said. "But we're thinking of calling him in."

"Why? What's happened?"

"Needed sort of an expert - tesseract's been acting up."

"Since when? It was perfectly stable."

"This morning. Energy levels fluctuating like crazy."

"Whack," I breathed as we crossed through the expanse of dessert. The Beetle had been rigged up with some new system and was going at twice the speed that was electronically possible. "Stark's our man, then."

"Try not to tick him off this time."

I scowled at the side of his face, "Agent Romanoff's out?"

"Calcutta," Clint Barton replied, eyes still fixed on the road.

It took us about another twenty miles at breakneck speed till we got to a fenced off area with a helipad, the air was whirring with the sound of blades and an engine. We unbuckled ourselves and raced across the tarmac.

* * *

The facility was as back of beyond as you could expect of S.H.I.E.L.D. It was a massive range of grey building, sticking out like a sore thumb from the desert sand and sparse shrubs. Columns of dust rose into the air as Clint landed the helicopter and killed the engine. Shielding my eyes with my arm, I let myself drop onto the still-warm sand. The sun was slowly setting behind the facility giving it an ominous red tinge.

I followed Agent Barton to where a large steel door stood obstinately shut, with an eye recognition panel on the side.

We each bent low to have our retinas scanned and then a cool female voice announced, "Welcome, Agent McAllister, Agent Barton."

The doors parted with a soft hiss and admitted us into a long neon-lit corridor.

"Bit of special treatment for a cadet, all of this," I remarked as we marched down, our boots thudding loudly against the riveted floor.

"So you haven't heard?" Clint said enigmatically.

"Heard what?" I turned sharply to him.

"Hell, McAllister, they made you a lieutenant."

I gawked at the side of his face for a long moment - I was certain I saw his lip twitch momentarily into a smile. I couldn't resist the urge to punch him in the arm, "Shut up!"

He chuckled and shook his head, "Left of the holding zone, hurry you've got a few minutes."

"Shit," I breathed, hastening down the corridor. As Clint turned left at a fork, I went right and found myself in front of an elevator door. Jabbing my thumb into the buttons until the doors split. I rode the elevator down three floors and marched out into the cool underground air, but I could already sense it was charged with something.

There was a small chamber to the left of the main vault, where other agents were suiting up, and I grabbed an unused uniform off the rack and packed in the ammo. It was unnecessary really, but they always had a combat unit of recruits on standby at all times. I asked around if Maria Hill was down yet.

The first thing Agent Hill ever said to me was, "Why should I think a delivery girl from small town America with no skills to speak of has any place among my cadets?" And I had squirmed so hard I was ready to cry in the lavatory if I could get away fast enough. Hill wasn't an unkind person, but she had worked me endlessly for the better part of the last ten months, whipping me into shape before I was even allowed to introduce myself as an Agent to anyone else at S.H.I.E.L.D. She was fantastic, though.

But she was still absent from the vault. The communicator strapped to my shoulder, and rigged up to batteries in an arm-band, crackled to life and I twisted the dials for better reception. It was mostly procedural updates and announcements. I cast a glance around the vault to find all the familiar faces, illumined by the eerie blue glows of monitors and machines. Down the middle of the room was some abominable contraption that only the techs and engineers seemed to understand, while the combat units and security could only speculate. At the centre of the unit, a large gateway-like structure, was the tesseract, thrumming and burning blue. Hell, even the recruits knew what it was, even if we didn't know what it was. Hovering, as always, near it, consumed by its indifferent glow, was Dr Erik Selvig.

I made a beeline for Dr Selvig who was muttering to himself. He had been working on a massive energy portal for months now. I watched him tapping the structure and consulting his notes and readings.

"Dr Selvig, can I be of any help?"

"Lord help us all," he mumbled, running a hand over his balding head, "this doesn't look very encouraging Agent."

I looked up and around and spotted Agent Barton perched up on a walkway at the other end, just over where the tesseract had been secured. It was a beautiful blue object that I would sometimes sit and watch for hours after the vault had been cleared of most agents and technicians. There was something magnetic about it, and even though it had only been transported to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, I felt it was somehow familiar. It was ancient technology, but it outdid anything we'd ever even dreamed of. A lot of the agents had joked around about a bunch of aliens crash-landing in a farm and leaving us a tesseract some four hundred years ago. I had laughed along many times before, but then I met Dr Jane Forster who spoke at length about Thor - the Norse God of Thunder. I had the strongest urge to smirk at her sometimes, but I listened enraptured, becoming uneasy at the thought. I could not shake the feeling that I had somehow known about the nine realms, about the bifrost breaking, like maybe I had drifted to sleep reading about it in a dusty little book long ago...

The tesseract had been "misbehaving", which is how Selvig chose to phrase it to Director Fury when he marched in, a couple of hours later, coat whipping, looking ready to hurl the first man who couldn't answer his questions straight into the portal. I followed Selvig about, handing him pieces of equipment and keeping out of Nick Fury's way.

"Where's Barton?" Fury demanded.

"The Hawk? Up in his nest as usual," Selvig glanced over his shoulder to the walkway.

I couldn't resist a peak at my wrist-watch. It was just a little before eleven o'clock and I wondered just how late Aaron meant when he said he'd be late and what he would begin to think of me when he found my apartment vacated. I thought about leaving a message on the home-phone, telling him to go to bed but I couldn't think up of a reason why I, a tennis coach, would be out all night. Maybe one of my best students was photo-sensitive and could only practice after sundown? No that hardly made sense. I didn't have time to mull over it much longer, because the ground was shaking.

"What's going on?" Somebody yelled and I looked around wildly for Selvig. He was backing away from the portal and the tesseract was going wild, blasting beams into the gate. I shielded my eyes for a brief moment and though it was over, every soul in the holding zone knew it had only just begun.


	3. The Beginning of the End

The sheer energy of the cube had shook the concrete floor, sending a few agents tumbling into walls, into monitors, into each other. I'd just barely managed to keep my balance, crouching in a corner.

It happened in a flash but everybody knew where to look. The portal, what else was it but a door? And doors tend to open both ways.

Amid the vestiges of wispy blue sparks there stood a tall figure silhouetted against blue.

Fear and surprise rippled through everyone present as a man unlike anyone I had ever seen straightened up on the dais and cast a glance around the vault.

"Sir, please step away," a voice piped up in assumed-bravery and the man on the dias turned to him with a cruel look. He had raven black hair and a pale worn face that was oddly, excruciatingly familiar. Without warning, he whisked up a scythe-like weapon from his side and thrust it in the direction of one of the men to my right. I watched in horror as Agent Ken Brookes disintegrated into nothingness. From the corner of my eye I could see Director Fury and Coulson quickly packing away the tesseract into a case.

"Please don't," the strange man said, climbing off the dais, "I still need that."

I felt something stirring beside me. Eric Selvig had been thrown off his feet and was clutching his elbow, cringing and trying to get up.

More blasts went off and more agents evaporated as beams hit them square in the body. Nick Fury was holding his own, but even I could see he was no match for a malevolent spaceman.

"This doesn't have to get any messier," Fury said levelly.  
_"_Of course it does," the man from the portal retorted, just as calmly, but edged with something vicious. "I've come too far anything else. I am Loki, of Asgard and I am burdened with glorious purpose."

"Loki, brother of Thor," the weak voice beside me said.

For a brief and terrifying moment I felt his eyes linger over me, as he face flickered in confusion but then it was over as he turned swiftly to Dr. Selvig, irritation in his expression. It was an instant reaction to the mere mention of Thor and then I remembered all I had heard from Jane Foster - the animosity of Loki Laufeyson for Thor Odinson, brothers torn apart by circumstance, was legendary.

"We have no quarrel with your people," Fury continued.

_"_An ant has no quarrel with a boot," the vile god sneered.

_"_Are you planning to step on us?"

A mirthless smile played on his thin, bloodless lips as he said, "I come with glad tidings of a world made free."

"Free from what?"

"Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie," Loki said and I wondered at him. "Once you accept that, in your heart..." He ignored me entirely as he marched up to Selvig and touched his scythe to his chest, "...you will know peace."

I watched stupefied as Selvig's eyes turned ice blue.

_"_Yeah, you say 'peace', I kind of think you mean the other thing."

The more I watched the raven-haired man, the more sick I felt. I know him, I thought. I _know_ him, somehow. I studied his face so hard from my corner, his movements, the way his lips formed words and for a long moment I was deaf and blind to anything else. Then I heard Dr Selvig, in a strange distant voice say, "The portal is collapsing in on itself. We've got maybe two minutes before this goes critical"

"Well, then," Loki nodded to Agent Barton, whose eyes, I finally noticed, had been clouded over like Selvig's.

Clint reached for a gun and shot Nick Fury. I gasped and dodged over to Director Fury, from whose hands, Agent Barton had snatched up the tesseract's case. Fury looked like he was out cold, but I had something a lot worse coming. Luckily, it all happened very fast. I wheeled around to find the tall pale man bearing down on me with malicious eyes. I should have had enough time to act, to respond, to kick him in the shins and get away, or die trying. But I was transfixed under his gaze. A small smile played on his lips as he raised the scythe to my heart and I felt a cold seeping through my chest and into my fingertips and the roots of my hair.

I wanted to scream; he wouldn't allow it.


	4. Control

I thought I had lain unconscious on my side for hours in the empty and crumbling vault under the desert, but I was vaguely aware of my limbs carrying me up a some flights of stairs, through a passageway and into the passenger seat of a jeep that roared and tore through the shrubbery, making for a destination still unknown to me. I thought I felt the cold of the floor seep into my skin and the burning blue flames settle on my clothes as I lay motionless on the ground, the earth trembling beneath me and cracking open, a hot, molten yawn - it was as if my last conscious thought was etched into my eyelids, and yet, I knew I wasn't dead or dying, but safe and dry and unscathed, walking on my own two legs, my standard issue boots thumping importantly against flagstones as I entered some sort of basement hideaway. It wasn't a very large space, but it was enough to house fifty or more other people, each of them with misted blue eyes and when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the stainless steel panel of machinery, I noticed I was no different. The thoughts which ran through my head then, , which on any other day would have paralyzed me with fear, became oddly reassuring to me. I was not acting of my own free will any more, not exactly. So whatever I was doing, I couldn't be blamed for.

Comforted by that logic, I went about doing as I was told. I did the heavy lifting, I screwed the bolts in and checked the monitors and I stood guard by the door most nights with my gun-arm tensed and ready to shoot anything that moved.

But where was I? Who were these people? And why was Dr Selvig pottering around happily amongst his metal toys behind those long strips of plastic? The questions came, over and over, but something, some overwhelming presence, always seemed to deflect them. Sometimes I thought I heard a voice telling me to ease my mind and focus on the job at hand. And so I did.

The next time I had the chance to even look at a calendar or a clock, it was the 22nd of August, and two weeks had passed me by.

And then, I saw him.

I had come in from night-watch just as the sky was turning a pale rose shade, and I had dropped down on a few empty crates in the corner, retiring my gun to its holster - he was sitting down and apart from the others, deep in thought. Only slightly weary from my tenth night-watch, I studied his profile. This man, Loki, was keeping us here, I thought. As I gazed into the side of his face, I wondered, what was keeping him here?

I watched him a long while and noticed he didn't really seem to be in the pink of health. He limped sometimes when he walked, and presently his face became fearful at the thought of something. What was it? What on earth and heaven could possibly unsettle a Norse god? He must've gotten up and gone to check on Selvig at some point, as I was drifting in and out of sleep, slumped against the crates and wall. Finally, I dropped off and I could hear the communicator pinned to my uniform crackling with the voices of Agent Hill and Director Fury.

I was asleep and it was a snatch of a memory that my mind, still battling with the force of Loki's scythe.

"Rescue and Recovery, clear the area," Maria Hill's voice was saying. "All other units, I repeat, all other units, pull out."

"Secure transport to the helicarrier, sir. Move out! Move out!"

"Roger."

"Somebody send in more techs!"

"Director Fury, we_ need_ to make a move."

"We need to get stark on this pronto. Coulson?"

"On my way now, sir."

And then the communicator was out of range, or maybe I was.

I was certainly out of my league here. Two years ago, I had been a bumbling delivery girl for an insufferable head of a shipment company in a small American township. Now, I was supposed to an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, a recruit at least, or a lieutenant, like they said. But I didn't really know what I was.

I was jolted out of my sleep by a blinding light and I shot to my feet, my hand poised over the gun. There was a lot of movement behind the PVC strip doors, but on the outside there didn't seem to be much concern. The tesseract, for that's what it was, was glowing brilliantly at the centre of the large underground hall, casting long shadows on the grimy grey walls. I looked around me, allowing my shoulders to relax again. A man, formerly S.H.I.E.L.D., paused at my elbow, dragging in some large metal boxes. He turned to me and nodded, "Mind standing guard a while? Just gotta get these in to the boss."

"What are those?" I asked, standing aside to let him pass.

"Bunch of parts for the reactors," and with that he heaved past me.

I ran my fingers through my hair and went out into the neutral air of the early morning. A thin breeze was shepherding the clouds in the East, but it was still and bland outside. I leant against a wall and toed the rocks and sand with my boot. It was some minutes before I felt someone coming up along the rough terrain to my left. I stiffened and dropped my eyes.

"Morning, sir," I said briskly, as Loki Laufeyson halted in front of me.


End file.
